Lament
by Yamamoto Ameko
Summary: After the death of Sawada Tsunayoshi, only one Guardian does not feel the pain.


Lament

JAS

The clouds covered the azure sky completely. Rain pelted the earth, and thunder crashed overhead. The cheery sun was nowhere to be found, blocked out by the storm's vicious winds. A creeping mist hid the gravestones around them as the Vongola Family gathered to bid their friend and final farewell.

They gathered in silence around the freshly turned earth which marked their boss's final resting place. Of course, he hadn't really been buried here. His coffin had been hidden, deep in the forests of Namimori, where his guardians could protect him even in death. But they had all agreed; a grave was necessary, so they could come here together and mourn as the family that Tsuna had, against all odds, made them.

One by one, they knelt before the grave, laying before it flowers of every vibrant color of the rainbow. They laid flower after flower across Tsuna's grave, until alongside the white lilies of other graves, his looked alive. And then, one by one, they rose from their knees, folding their hands and, with heads bowed to hide their tears, whispered their prayers for Tsuna's safe passing. Everyone said something different, remembered someone different. Some looked up long before the rest. But all of them prayed as they storm raged around them.

And then, the service was over. As one body, the Vongola turned from the colorful grave. Supporting one another, guiding one another, they paced off into the stormy mist.

All but one of them. Alone on the hill stood a single figure, his head bent to gaze solemnly at the mound of flowers. As the others vanished into the silver, he knelt before the grave and laid upon it a single violet flower. His hand lingered gently across the silky petals, almost fondling them as he thought about he man whose death this marked.

"Do not keep me waiting long, Tsunayoshi." Hibari whispered. But his voice was not menacing; it was gentle, quiet. Almost friendly, "I have little patience left for you."

Finally, as the clouds began to recede and reveal a sky lit by thousands of brilliant stars, Hibari came to his feet and he, too, left the grave of the one man in the world that every one of them had called a friend.

There was nothing to say when they all returned to headquarters. Nothing they could think to do for one another. All of them were stuck on Tsuna. They could not believe he had died. Could not believe that he; the only thing that had brought them together; was gone. Every one of them could feel their world falling down around their ears.

And so each one retreated to their rooms, to try and patch the holes.

Yamamoto did not bother trying to change into dry clothes, or get into bed, though he was exhausted in every sense of the word. He took one step into his room, closed the door behind him, and simply fell to his knees. And there he stayed, staring at his hands, folded in his lap, and tried to hold back the tears. But they would not be contained; they flowed freely from his brown eyes, just like his own miniature rainstorm.

Tsuna… Tsuna, who had always been there for him. Who had saved his life, and the lives of everyone else, countless times. Who had brought them together whenever the flew apart, and who had separated them when they fought. Who had made him laugh when he wanted to cry, and who had made him cry when they both knew he should. How could that… how could he be gone?

Slowly, Yamamoto lifted his strong, trembling hand to sift through his spiky black hair. He felt odd, now. Almost sick, like his stomach was doing flips and spins inside him. He let his hand drop to his forehead; he felt clammy, cold. And yet, he was numb. Like he had been thrown in a vat of ice-water with a weight tied around his ankle, and yet didn't care that he was drowning. He _wanted _to drown. In that moment, he would have taken any death he could be dealt. He had lost his father, and now he had lost one of his best friends. He wasn't sure he could take it anymore.

A strange sound made him jump, and he looked up, hunting for the source. There was nothing there. He twisted around, searching for the sound as it continued to echo through his ears. It took him the longest time to realize that _he _was the source. A high-pitched keening, barely recognizable as a sort of corrupted laughter. It bubbled up from his chest, tickling and uncontrollable, half-way between a laugh, a sob, and a scream. Like a sound made by some animal, dying alone in the forest, in pain with no one to save them.

He did not have the strength catch himself as he slumped over to one side. He just lay there, listening to the wild laughter, and wishing that the last forty-eight hours had just been a dream.

Gokudera staggered as he walked into his room. He would have fallen face-first, if a pair of strong, round arms had not wrapped his shoulders and guided him over to the bed. He did not look at the person as they pushed and pulled him to sit on the mattress. He did not care who they were, or why they were in his room. He did not have the energy to care about anything, just then. All he could imagine was Tsuna's last words to him, before his beloved friend had left on the mission which none of them had known would be his last. _Keep the family save, Gokudera-kun. Protect them until I get back. _

He had not realized how completely final that sounded. Was it possible that Tsuna had known? Had understood what was about to happen to him, and had needed to make sure Gokudera knew… the family was left to him? Forty-eight hours ago, he could not have imagined it. But now… that was just the sort of thing Tsuna would have done. Warning Gokudera without actually warning him, so he wouldn't worry until it was too late to worry. Protecting Gokudera from the pain Tsuna already felt. It had happened so often… he couldn't believe he hadn't realized that was what was going on.

The tears were flowing freely now, streaming down his face. His body shook with sobs he could not control, and did not want to. His chest hurt; like his heart was trying to hack its own way out of his ribcage. He wrapped his arms around his torso and rocked slowly, trying to contain his heart almost as much as he was trying to contain the pain. Whomever was with him rubbed his back soothingly, whispered to him in a voice almost as heartbroken as his own. He recognized the voice. His sister; the one person in the world who he might have wanted to be with just then.

He was a grown man now. A fully-accomplished fighter. A man that entire nations feared.

But in the face of this great loss, he turned to his sister and cried like a newborn child.

Mukuro's mind was in a fog as he held Chrome, rocking her gently as she cried herself to sleep. He had never been close to Tsunayoshi. In fact, his intent had been generally murderous. But seeing Chrome cry like this…

It felt like a failure, that he hadn't realized how close she was to the tenth boss of the Vongola family. That he hadn't realized how much it would hurt, if he disappeared. Now, it was too late to protect her from that pain. Because Tsuna _had _died. And now that pain was here.

"Shhhhh…." He whispered, tightening his hold on her a bit, "Shhh… it's alright, my Nagi. Everything's alright."

But it wasn't. The Vongola was in shambles. Chrome was in shambles. Everything seemed to be falling apart around them.

And for the shortest of moments, Mukuro was sad, too…

It seemed like days, not hours, before the Vongola gathered again in one of the comfortable briefing halls of their underground base. They came slowly, trickling in without any real drive to do so. All red-rimmed eyes and trembling limbs. First Yamamoto, staggering and hiccoughing to himself, as though he'd somehow deprived himself of breath. Then Ryohei, for once subdued, tailed by a teary Kyoko and a sobbing Haru, carrying with them a slumbering Lambo. Next Gokudera, supported by Bianchi, who looked just as broken as he did. And them Chrome, led gently by Mukuro, for once standing among them without a violent reason.

And Hibari watched them all in silence, as Fuuta wordlessly served them hot tea and some small plates of food that no one really wanted. Nobody spoke; it seemed wrong, to try and break the subdued silence which was the aftershock of a death in the family.

No one was surprised that Hibari did not rise up and attack Mukuro, or try to leave the room and escape from the crowds. They all believed that he was a grieved as they were, that he had no more energy than they did.

But that wasn't true. Hibari's strength was full, his mind clear. He watched them all with the same derision as always; a lesser derision than that with which he watched his enemies. Because he had fought alongside these people, knew that they were herbivores that could defend themselves, and one another.

And knew that their grief would soon be put aside. Because he was privy to information that not even Gokudera, the second-in-command for the tenth generation of the Vongola, had been given.

Because this time, just this once, death was not as permanent as it sounded.


End file.
